Busy

Heeeeeeyyyyy there, bitterness issues. This is me, acknowledging you. This is me, admitting that you are something I need to work on.

There must be something in the air . . . people seem to be feeling overwhelmed. I read some blog posts this week in which the bloggers were doing their best to handle all of the things on their proverbial plates. Some of them seemed logical and understandable (keeping healthy, extra jobs), and others (I’m not going to mention anything specific) almost made my head explode. The thing that most of these bloggers have in common? They don’t have children.

HOLD ON WAIT A MINUTE. I swear I’m not going to hop on my baby food-covered high horse and yammer on about how people without kids just don’t get it. I swear. I promise. I’m not.

At first, I thought, “BUSY!? You think you’re BUSY!? Try not being able to actually hear yourself think from about 7 am to 9 pm. Try raising two human beings while trying to run a small business, avoid turning into a grumpy wife-blob, and just by the skin of your knuckles barely keeping your house from being an epic disaster. Try—”

(This is the point in which someone hopefully slaps me and screams, “Get a hold of yourself, woman!”)

How about, Self, you just calm the frick down?

I hate it when I have to pep-talk myself, but sometimes it has to happen. I love having kids. I chose this. I chose to stay home with them. Other people choose other things. Comparing my choices to other people’s choices breeds nothing but false discontent in the choices that I’m actually very content with. I said the word “choices” about 500 times there, but I think that’s appropriate.

Why do I jump on the defensive the second someone talks about being busy? I know for a fact that I’m not the busiest person in the world, just like I know that some people aren’t as busy as me. What I have such a hard time getting through my head is that it just doesn’t matter.

You are not going to get a trophy that says “Congratulations, you are officially the busiest person ever.” In fact, it’s the people who aren’t so mind-blowingly busy that will probably get the award . . . which comes in the form of more sleep, completed projects, and an overall sense of well-being.

BUT, and here’s the kicker, who am I to say that these people who don’t seem busy aren’t actually busy? And who cares? Clearly, I do. Which I hate.

After thinking about it a lot and talking to Paul a bit, I’ve come to the conclusion that I am just Jealous with a capital J.

I’m like, totally jelly, guys.

I’m jealous of free time, and so I flip out if I feel like other people are wasting it. If I had more free time, I would write, write, write. I would spend more time on my business. I would cook elaborate meals with Paul. I would call my old friends more, or even stop to see them if I drive through their towns.

I would, I would, I would.

…but I don’t right now, and I also have NO IDEA how people are actually spending their free time, regardless of how it seems.

Moral of the story? Fewer “woulds” and “ifs.” More “ams” and “wills.” I’ve got goals, and none of them have anything to do with anyone else’s.

Anyone else have this problem? Anyone NOT have this problem, and have some tips to dole out? I’m ready to listen.